Hermione woke up crying. Tears came streaming down her face. She immediately put her hands on her belly. It stuck out just like it should. Everything was fine. She sighed and then started sobbing. It had felt so real. Just like it had really, truly happened. She just couldn’t shake the feeling of the dream she’d had.
Ron woke from the sound of her sobs. He looked confused for a moment and then carefully put an arm around her.
“What’s wrong, dear?” He asked her softly. Hermione sobbed again and leaned into him. She let the tears stream into his pyjamas.
Still croaking, Hermione started talking, “I had a nightmare, just a nightmare. But is felt so real, so true. It scared the living daylight out of me.”
“What was it about?”
“Oh, it was horrible. I don’t think I can tell it.”Hermione started sobbing again and buried her face in his neck.
“It’s okay, honey you don’t have to tell me. Shall I get you something?”
“No that alright. I’m fine, thank you. I want to tell you about it. But it was a really nasty dream. I warn you.” She breathed in heavily. “You know how I have been thinking about Harry lately? Him, not having any parents and being all alone in his childhood. Well, I think that the thinking had gotten the better of me. I was sleeping, dreaming about our pretty baby and his really nice nursery. In my dream I had painted it yellow, like the sand. It was lovely. There was my little baby, laying in the crib. Oh, he was so pretty. In my dream it was a boy. But then I realized I still had him l with me. I didn’t know what was going on.
“So I panicked. I found a mirror and there I was. White and see through. Like a ghost, because I was a ghost. So I started to panic even more. I tried to pick up my little baby but it fell strait trough my ghostly hands. He began to cry because my touch was icy cold. Then suddenly you came in. You told me to go away and leave him alone because I couldn’t do anything for him.” Hermione’s breath stocked. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. It felt good to tell this all. It made it less real.
“Well,” she went on “you picked him up and were just leaving the room when you heard footsteps in the hallway. You put the baby back in the crib and tried to close the door but you were too late. There were Death Eaters in the doorway. They wanted only one thing. To make you a ghost just like me. They wanted our little baby because he had to be sacrificed to bring back the V-voldermort. It was bloody awful and I couldn’t do a thing about it!” Hermione wailed in terror and put both her arms around Ron’s neck. He held her close to his chest.
“You know there are no Death Eaters on the loose anymore, dear. They are all in Azkaban. You don’t have to worry. I will always protect you and the baby. I would die protecting you. Don’t worry now, dear. It’s all going to be fine. I promise.” Ron softly stroked Hermione’s hair.
He had hoped that after eight years the nightmares of Death Eaters would have passed. In the beginning, just after the defeat she would have them every night. He could only imagine how she managed to get through the last year of Hogwarts on her own. He could barely make it, without her by his side, himself. Well, it seemed the pregnancy brought the worry back in her mind, and it seemed it brought the bad dreams back too. He softly kissed her on top of her head and then on her forehead, her eyelids and her nose. She’d stopped sobbing and leaned against him heavily.
“Go back to sleep dear, you need it.”
“No, I think I need a little bit of chocolate. Can you hand me some?” Hermione knew she had a good reaction to chocolate, it made her calm. And besides she was really hungry. Ron chuckled, if she wanted chocolate again she was going to be fine.
After that night Hermione had nightmares more frequently and she found that when she thought about the nightmares to much it would get worst . Though it was unpleasant Hermione didn’t worry about it. It was written everywhere that part of the feelings during the pregnancy where expressed in bad dreams. Worry and doubt were the first feelings that would get their place in dreams. The baby itself, with its first blooming magical powers, made most of the mothers feelings go into extremes. Driving them crazy with worry, fear and doubt. It was a natural thing that every pregnant witch had to suffer. Neither mother nor baby could do anything about it.
But besides this it was a lovely time for Hermione. She had lots of energy in her to do whatever she wanted. She went around the house whistling. She had a pretty nice plan for the nursery. She wanted to paint it blue, like the sky, with little white clouds sailing around the ceiling. In the floor she wanted a golden carpet so it would look like grain in the sun. Just the other day she had found the cutest crib. It was white with eye lace cotton drapes over them. It stood on four delicate legs and the inside was covered with soft cushions. It was adorable.
Hermione was in the nursery, watching it with awe. She loved the little crib so much. She still needed a nursery table and some other furniture but for her the nursery was perfect with just this cradle. The only thing that would make it more perfect would be an old rocking chair, a rocking chair with a thick cushion on it, so she could sit here and read to her baby. Hermione was deep in thoughts about rocking chairs and that kind of things when she suddenly heard a lot of noise coming from the living room. She hurried towards the door. Looking around the living room door she saw her husband, trying to get something big inside. The thing was wrapped in brown paper, but it looked like a chair. Hermione hurried over to help him.
“What is this?” she asked Ron, though a suspicion was forming in her head. “It looks big.”
“Oh you’ll see. But you first have to help me get it in the nursery.” Ron answered. Together they got the big brown package into the nursery. “Go ahead.” Ron said grinning “It’s for you!”
Hermione tore the paper of. Underneath it was a beautiful, old rocking chair. Just like she’d imagined before. It even had the big white cushion on it. It was perfect. Just perfect.
Hermione did a very un-Hermione like dance of joy and clapped her hands. She squealed loudly and then kissed her husband. When she calmed down enough to make sense she let out a long sigh.
“It’s so pretty. It’s perfect, just what I wanted for this room! How did you know?” Hermione asked, Ron smiled secretively.
“Sometime I do listen to you, you know. You’ve been talking about getting a rocking chair from the day you found out you were pregnant. It wasn’t hard to miss.”
“Yes, yes,” Hermione sighted, “but how did you know what kind of chair. There are so many.”
“Well, I didn’t know that exactly. But this is my grandma’s chair. She left it to me when she died. I had forgotten about it, till today. So you like it, huh?” Hermione nodded. It was as pretty as the cradle.
A/N: What is there to own for me? Not very much, so thank JK Rowling if you want... Also: Thank Mystique for her great help in beta-ing my story!
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